Oh the Pain...

I was supposed to spend yesterday driving "I'm FOR 1" yard signs around to people all over the valley. I didn't. And today I slept on the couch while Mashuga watched a movie.

You see, I'm fighting off a bout of mastitis. I can't believe that I've nursed four children for a total of 6 1/2 years and have never had mastitis.

I now understand why women who have multiple occurrences of mastitis stop breastfeeding early.

This sucks.

Brushes With Murphy

Murphy's Law: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

Murphy, you rascal, I love to hate you. You keep popping into my life lately and mixing things up. I'd punch you in the nose and kick you out the door, but then the party wouldn't be nearly as interesting. Would it?

Here are the appearances you've made in my life this week:

• On Monday night I got a call and was told that I needed to rush over and intervene in a fight between two friends. I knew it was urgent, but at that moment Coco needed to be fed. So, being the good Mommy I am, I fed him first.
• I got there in time to be somewhat helpful, but not before the police got there and charged one of the parties with a simple assault. Ironically, they chose to cite the one on crutches who could barely move. Interesting choice, but I wasn't there for the real fireworks so who am I to judge? Murphy, you must love me. My life is never this interesting.
• After getting there I listened to one person rage and yell and then sat on the bathroom floor to listen while the other person cried. And I felt awfully guilty for not getting there sooner and smoothing things out better. Then I realized that these were their choices, not mine. Whether I'd been there earlier or not, I simply did not have to feel guilty over the consequences of someone else's decisions. You almost got me there, buddy.
• Because I was away from home for the better part of Monday night, JDub was left to take care of Coco. Now, I usually nurse him to sleep (Coco, not JDub) and then bring him to bed with me. We're big cosleeping proponents around here. But, I've also been feeling that it's time for Coco to learn how to sleep in his crib. Because I was gone, JDub decided to put him in his crib and let him sleep there. He whimpered a bit, didn't cry frantically like I'd been worried he would if we didn't ease him into the crib-sleeping-gig. And he slept until 6am! On his own! Yay for Coco!
• Here's where you come in, Murph. I woke up with Triple D, rock hard breasts that were screaming in pain. I guess going from three or four night feedings to none will do that. I was very grateful to be able to feed Coco that morning. He smiled and cooed at me and ate happily.
• Then, he projectile vomited all over both of us. I guess you can get too much of a good thing.
• Oh yes, back to Monday. I paid the very last payment on our van. As soon as we get the title in the mail, it is officially ours. Hooray!
• So, on Tuesday I went on a field trip with Mashuga's preschool class. Guess what happened? Really, can you guess? We got done, got all of the kids strapped into our car and it wouldn't start. Nada. Nothin' doin'. Thankfully, though, it was just a dead battery and we were able to jump start it right up.
• Then, that afternoon I was racing out the door at 3:20 to pick up kids. I had lost track of time as I am wont to do. (I can just hear JDub in my head. "The kids get out of school at 3:15? Really? Just like yesterday? When did this happen?") I rushed to get the little boys in their car seats and guess what? Nothing. Not a beep. So, we jump started it. Again.
• We showed up at my sister-in-law's house to pick up the kids an hour late. It really wasn't a problem, especially since she's the angel woman she is. We got Kaitybean to her last soccer game. Late, but there.
• Wednesday went off pretty smoothly. Oh, wait. No it didn't. We went to the gym to workout, Coco and Mashuga and I. We got there at 10am and the Kids' Club (daycare) was full. Not a problem. We walked to a nearby grocery store and got a few things. Then, we went back at 10:30, waited in a line for about 5 people to pick up their children and FINALLY got Mashuga and Coco in.
• I went upstairs to lift weights. I hadn't been working out for more than 10 minutes when I hear over the loudspeaker: "Attention members and guests, could Heather please come to the Kids' Club?" So, I went in. Coco was crying his sweet little heart out. I took him, fed him in the locker room and then dropped him back off with the nice ladies in the Kids' Club. I finished my workout and had time for a shower, even.
  
• That afternoon, after getting kids home from school, Kaitybean to and from ballet and Scud dropped off at football practice, I got a call from JDub. He had a flat tire on his bike and could I please come get him. Of course. We drove for fifteeen minutes before we saw him (handsome as could be) walking along the side of the road with his bicycle. Loaded it in and after being yelled at and honked at several times for being audacious enough to use the shoulder of the road, headed back home. I dropped JDub, Mashuga and Coco off and turned right around to pick Scud up from football practice.
• On Wednesday night I mentioned to JDub that we needed to do something about our TV. The stand we have it on isn't very sturdy and I was worried that one of our kids might pull it down on themselves. He agreed.
  
• So, at 7:30 on Wednesday morning I was downstairs doing laundry and heard a HUGE thud. Scud ran down to me to tell me that he'd managed to pull the television down on himself. I went upstairs to pick it up and the screen was flashing all sorts of shades of yellow, red and orange. The AV cables had broken off so that the prongs were stuck inside the TV.
  
• We cleaned up the mess and still managed to get Scud to school early. (JDub and Kaitybean take the bus to school really early on Thursday mornings so that Kaitybean can go to choir at 7:20.) We then went to the gym for yoga class, something I look forward to all week. We pulled in to a spot right in the front of the gym, walked in and SURPRISE! there was room for my boys in the Kids' Club. Woohoo! So, I got right in and thoroughly enjoyed yoga until someone came in 10 minutes before the end of class and told me to come to the Kids' Club. Coco, again, was crying. So, I signed him out and brought him in to yoga with me, only to find out that babies are not allowed in class. Oops. Not a problem.
• So, that afternoon, I took Mashuga to dance class. I got his dance shoes and realized that, once again, I forgot to buy shoe glue to fix his ballet shoes. The soles are falling off. No problem. I duct taped them on for now and will get shoe glue by next week. If I remember. It was not a fun dance day. Mashuga was tired and had a very difficult time listening to his teachers and being nice to all of the little girls in their cute pink leotards.
• After dance, we picked Scud and Kaitybean up from my SIL's house again. It was a comedy of errors trying to get them all in the car. I'd just get Mashuga rounded up and Kaitybean would disappear, then vice versa. So, we got home at 5:10 and had to leave by 5:20 to get Scud to his football game in time. Needless to say, Scud was late. But, we got him there. And it was a fun game to watch. Sadly, I couldn't get in touch with JDub to have him meet us and watch the game with us. Just as I was trying to call him the third time, my phone died. Which also meant that we couldn't order pizza to pick up after the game.
  
• So, I drove home, ordered pizza. Waited for 45 minutes to go pick it up and it wasn't done when I got there. I got home at about 8:30 and we all ate pizza and went to bed.
• Then, this morning, Coco (who has continued to sleep in his crib all week, hooray!) woke up at 5am and wouldn't go back to sleep. He finally fell asleep at around 6:30 and I decided that I'd join him for a little nap before I had to wake kids up for school. The next thing I know, Kaitybean is standing at the side of my bed, fully dressed and telling me it's 7:50 already. Aaaargh! We were late for school once again.

Do you want to know the funny thing about this week, though, Murphy my friend? All of the above may sound like complaining. It has been a truly nutty week. But, I am just so grateful for the gifts this week has given me.

• I was able to learn much from Monday night's situation. I grew closer to someone I haven't had much of a chance to get to know well.
  
• I was able to realize just what a treasure I have in my husband. He is my best friend. He treats me with kindness and respect. He is patient with me. He is unselfish and always trying to do what he can to make my life easier, to make me happier. We have learned through the last decade to work together, to communicate and to put our love for one another before anything else.
• Coco learned to sleep in his crib! I have had four uninterrupted nights of sleep in a row. This morning's sleep ended earlier than I would have liked and I probably should have just stayed up, but I still got to sleep for 6 hours without being woken up.
• My body has very quickly adjusted to Coco's new eating schedule and needs. What a miracle breastfeeding is! I am so grateful that it works so perfectly to meet his needs.
• I have a vehicle that gets us all over -- school, football, dance, soccer, football. We've had it since 2002. It has driven 220 thousand miles and the only issue we have with it right now is either a dying battery or an alternator that might not be working properly. Small potatoes, don't you think?
• I'm grateful to have family close and especially thankful for angel sisters and sisters-in-law.
• I'm grateful for a cool husband who was able to take the TV apart last night and get it working again. How awesome is he? Also, so grateful that we're not all that dependent on TV. We just don't watch it that much anymore.
  
• I have four beautiful, wonderful children and the means to allow them to play sports, participate in dance and choir and such. Playing taxi is a sacrifice, but how can I pity myself when I am so very blessed by such wonderful people to play taxi for.
• Thanks to my regular yoga practice, I am feeling my body grow firmer, stronger, looser. My mind and spirit are growing along with my body. I am more joyful, more peaceful, calmer. So, I missed ten minutes of a yoga class. So, what?
• I have one of the most amazingly beautiful and wonderful babies I could even imagine. He is such a sweetheart. And if he needs his mommy right now, rather than being able to be in the gym's daycare I understand. He is doing big things right now. Learning to sleep in a crib. He just finished getting two more teeth. He is learning to walk by himself and walking 10 or more steps at a time without holding onto anything. I'm so glad that I'm the lucky mom who gets to be there as his safe haven, the comfort he needs in order to have the strength to take on the world.
  
• And I am so grateful for a gym I love, at a price I can afford and with a phenomenal daycare that I can take my children to while I take some time for me. I can wait my turn for the Kid's club.
• I told Kaitybean last night that she would need to wake up early to finish her homework. And she did, without me even needing to get out of bed. How cool is that?

So, Murphy, this is why I love to hate you. You think you're wreaking havoc in my life, but I know better. This nutsiness and difficulty is what life is all about. And if the highs are this high, I'll take any lows you want to throw at me. Bring it on.

The haircut post

Finally, the haircut.

I can't find a before picture. I had JDub take one weeks ago when I thought I'd be getting a haircut. Now I can't find it. Picture it longer and curlier than in our family picture.

But, here's what I look like now, in a picture taken by my Mashuga:

Not a perfect picture, but it'll do. I straighten it like this about half the time and leave it crazy and curly the rest of the time.

The haircut was an interesting experience. First off, I meant to go see my cousin's wife, who usually cuts my hair anytime I want to do something drastic. She always manages to do a PERFECT job and get my hair exactly the way I want it. She lives in my hometown and I don't mind AT ALL driving an hour and a half to have her cut my hair.

But, um, I am both phone-phobic and a huge procrastinator. So, I didn't call her until Friday afternoon. Oh, wait. I didn't even call then. I was going to get the phone, really I was. But, before I could, my Mom called to see if she could get an appointment for me. I was both embarrassed (harassing myself about not just picking up the phone days before) and grateful. Well, she was busy. Of course. What is the likelihood of getting an appointment with a good stylist at 5:30 on Friday evening? Really? Pretty slim.

So, my second choice, the woman who always did my hair as a teenager wasn't available either. And I was really ready to let go of my long hair. It just had to go. So, I decided to take my chances with someone else.

I got there, with a picture in hand of exactly how I wanted my hair. It's the way I had it about 4 years ago and I LOVED it.

She cut a little at a time. I kept waiting for inches to fall off, ready to enjoy the catharsis of watching hair fall to the floor -- taking the stories weaved among each strand with it. This was a monumental haircut for me. I have been feeling like new wine in old bottles for quite some time. I was SO ready for a change.

But, no, she took a little at a time and before my hair was even close to as short as I thought it should be, she started blow drying it.

I knew I was in trouble when she told me to lean forward for her to blow dry it. This is a good trick for people with thin or average, straight hair. A great way to add body. I have naturally curly, thick scottish highlander hair. Body ain't a problem. Getting it to calm down is usually the trick.

But, I decided that I'd trust her. She blow-dried it, and used the curling iron a bit to smooth it. Barely. Then, she started looking like she was done. And I started panicking. We're talking serious anxiety here folks.

It looked awful! It looked like a mushroom shaped Maltese had taken up residence on my head.

"Well?" She asked.

I wanted to shout "Are you kidding me????? It looks HORRIBLE! It looks NOTHING like the picture, NOTHING like what I wanted. It doesn't even look GOOD! How could you even ask me that question?!?"

What I said was, "Don't hate me. But, I think you're going to have to cut a lot more off the front."

"Oh, really?" She said. "Okay. I'd much rather cut a little off at a time and then go shorter, rather than going too short."

Understandable, but how on earth is fungus meets frizzball a good haircut?

So, again, she cut little bits at a time off. Until I finally told her she was going to have to cut off inches in the front to get it the way I wanted.

"Like the picture," I said (in my head, not wanting to be confrontational) "I really did bring the picture because I really DO want it to look like that."

We were eventually able to communicate well enough for her to get the basic shape right. Then, it came down to the thinning. Remember what I said about the Scottish Highlander hair? It doesn't like to lay flat on top of me head. So, it must be liberally thinned on the top and sides.

I told her this.

She thinned the back.

I ran my hands through the top and sides of my hair and told her again exactly where I needed it to be thinner. She didn't believe me, apparently, and again thinned the back.

I tried one more time.

Let's just say my hair lays quite nicely in the back.

I was starting to worry that I was going to run out of hair to thin in the back before I was able to help her understand what I wanted her to do.

I decided that it was time to tell her thanks and pay her before it got any worse.

So, there you go.

I do love my hair short and I am glad I had it cut, even if it's not exactly what I wanted. I got out of the shower after I got home and caught a glance at myself in the mirror.

"Oh, there I am!" I thought.

It was wonderful to look in the mirror and feel very much myself again, something I haven't felt about my appearance for some time now.

It's getting longer now and I'm about ready to break down and get it fixed. It really is a bit too heavy on the top, especially when it's curly.

Soo...

I've never colored my hair and I think I might do that this time.

What do you think? Should I do blonde or red highlights? How drastic should I go with the color?

What would you do?

This motherhood business is the hardest job imaginable.

This morning was the third time in a week that Kaitybean has glared at me from outside the van door and yelled "I hate you!" in response to my cheery "Make good choices! Have a great day! I love you!"

Scud has begged to stay home from school at least four times since school started (just over two weeks ago). And twice he has called me from school complaining of a vague stomach ache, saying he just wanted to come home.

This morning he woke up and said that his stomach hurt "Just a little, I think." and that he didn't want to go to school.

I made him go anyway. And I made him stay when he called about his stomach hurting.

Then, there's this nagging feeling that maybe there really is something wrong with his stomach and I should get him to the doctor to get it figured out. But, strangely, his stomach ache (and all memories of it) disappear magically when I pick him up from school. He feels perfectly fine enough to play.

So, this morning was particularly hellish. Scud didn't want to go to school, so refused to get dressed until about 8:15. We have to leave our home at 8:15 at the LATEST in order to make it to school on time.

Kaitybean got right up and did her math homework, got dressed and ate breakfast. Then, when we got to school, she refused to get out of the car. I cajoled and pleaded and threatened. She wouldn't budge. I asked her why she didn't want to go.

"I'm too tired," she said one minute and then, the next, "I just want to be home."

As we talked, she insisted that she LOVES school, especially her school and that she does NOT want to do homeschool again. And yet...

She sat there.

Morning meeting got over and a gaggle of fifth graders and their teachers passed by our car, all staring. Questioning. Kaitybean's best friend walked by and waved and said hello.

Still, she sat there.

Finally, after much begging (and, I'm ashamed to say, guilt-tripping), she got out of the car. I could see her eyes welling up with tears, I knew she was unhappy. I tried to reach out and hug her, caress her cheek. She jerked backward, glaring. That's one funny thing about this age. The times she most obviously needs a hug are the times she most adamantly refuses to be touched.

"Well, I love you, honey," I told her. "Try to make it a great day."

"Hmph!" she grunted. As she rounded the corner, she shouted, "I hate you!"

"Kaitybean," I responded, "if there's something real that you want to talk to me about, come back here. If not, just go to school."

At this point, I realized that not only was she 30 minutes late for school, but we were right outside the principal's office. His blinds were open. I'm not sure how much of this struggle he may have witnessed.

After waiting a few seconds, I turned back to the van, tears in my eyes. No matter how much I try to stay cheerful and loving and patient, it hurts to have my daughter tell me repeatedly how much she hates me. I made sure that Mashuga was safely restrained, then stepped back out, surprised to see Kaitybean standing right by me, tears streaming down her face.

"Kaitybean, what's wrong? What can I do to help you?" I asked her.

"I like going to school," she said. "I just miss you SO MUCH all day long. I hate being away from you. I just wish you could be my teacher. That would be perfect."

You can imagine how puzzled I am at this point. She hates me (okay I know she's probably just trying to distance herself), yet she misses me terribly all day and THAT is why she doesn't want to go to school. Also, um, we used to do homeschool which consisted of spending all day with mom, who was her teacher. Yet, she insists that she DOES NOT want to do homeschool.

I held her and comforted her. I told her I loved her and that I'd try to come up with some solutions and I wanted her to do the same. Then, I walked her into the school and got her checked in.

Then, I drove home crying.

Can I tell you how much I HATE THIS?!?

I hate driving an hour a day to take my children to a wonderful charter school that I put a lot of work into getting started, only to have them tell me that they don't want to go to school. I HATE forcing my children to go to school, or stay at school when they don't want to be there. I HATE in an inexpressible way (or at least in a way that is impossible to express politely) the politics and the stupidity of compulsory public schooling. Either I completely take my children out of school and homeschool them, or I am required by law to send them to school, whether they like it or not, whether I feel it is best for them or not. Some days (a lot of days, actually) I really feel like my children would be best served by staying home, reading, playing math games, learning at their own pace. Some days I feel like school is the best possible thing for them. It kills me that I can't just choose on a day to day basis what I feel will be best for them in the long run.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Why shouldn't I, as a parent, have that control and authority? I understand the difficulties of planning for a school and that they just couldn't survive if they never knew, from one day to the next, which students would and would not show up. I understand that, if my children weren't in school every day, they might miss out on some of the things learned in school. I understand. I accept that. But, I also know that my children learned just as much, if not more, with much less effort when we were homeschooling than they have in school.

And then there's also that part of me that LOVES having two in school all day and the freedom it gives me to go and do the things I need to do with just my little guys. I hate to give that up.

Oh, and I'm just not sure what to do about Scud's class. He is BORED SILLY. He's in first grade in a school with a fairly advanced curriculum. Yet, if the "homework" his teacher is sending home is any indication, his teacher is not following that curriculum. The math curriculum is what I am particularly concerned about. Part of the reason I signed on to this school is that I LOVE the math curriculum that they have chosen for the early grades. It is logical, smart. It promotes a visual, kinesthetic and deep understanding of the principles of math and the laws that govern it. There is an early understanding of place value, of equations as parts and whole. In short, it is fantastic. Perfectly what I want my children to be learning in their early exposure to math. And yet, Scud's teacher is sending home stupid, cutesy math. Count how many butterflies there are and such. Blech! Not what I signed on for, and not at all in line with the chosen curriculum. Counterproductive to what he's already learned, actually.

I'm not sure whether or not to confront her. Or whether or not to talk to the assistant director in charge of the curriculum. Or maybe, since I have been so closely involved in the curriculum of the school and its implementation, I should volunteer my time as to help the teachers find resources and learn how to better implement the curriculum.

Grrrr...

I intended this to be a thoughtful post about the difficulties of parenting, of choosing what's best for these sweet souls entrusted to my care, of constantly feeling inadequate and often feeling thwarted in trying to do my best for them. It has turned into a rambling complaint session, I'm afraid.

I wish I just knew what was best to do. I'm trying. Oh, how I'm trying.

And oh, how I love these sweet kids. They try my patience one minute and the next minute they are so beautiful, so wonderful that I could cry.

Will Someone Please Bring Me Some Sprite and Saltines

I'm sick to my stomach.

I just sent a check for $2242 to the IRS. ACK!

Now, I don't mind contributing to our society, a little at a time. But, despite the IRS's claims to the contrary, we're not so wealthy that we should pay them this much.

Silly us. Instead of spending lots of money on things that could be counted as business expenses last year, we decided to put every extra penny toward saving and getting out of debt.

Really, what were we thinking?

Anyone living in Utah who knows a good accountant, please email me. We may already be too late, but I think we'd better start working things out now so that this will not happen again next year.

Back to Skoo

Today was the first day of school for my kiddos. Ahhhh....

I think I was a bit more excited about it than maybe I should have been. Surely I'll be missing them in a few weeks. But, despite getting a bit nostalgic as I watched them run into school in their handsome uniforms, I am very glad that school has begun.

I'm excited for them. Kaitybean and Scud both love to learn. They love the activity and social interaction that school provides. So, they are glad to be back.

Mashuga goes to his preschool for testing today. Then he starts in a week. Just two days a week for 2 1/2 hours, but he is ready for it. I'm excited for him.

More than anything, just getting up and getting ready this morning reminded me how much I love the way school adds edges to our days. There is more rhythm and purpose built in to a school day. As you know, we've needed that.

Now...

Can I , um, dispense with the niceties and just complain for a while?

My house is a disaster. I told my SIL yesterday that it is not just messy enough that I'm embarassed to have anyone over. It's such a mess that I'm embarassed to live here.

So, I will be thoroughly gutting my house over the next few weeks. All non-essentials will either be going to charity or they will be put in storage. There is simply too much stuff around here.

Oh, and do you remember the kitchen chairs I was so excited about? The red paint and adorable yellow fabric. Well, the chairs are now officially a nightmare. The three I didn't prime will be okay. But I'm afraid I used the wrong primer for the other three because the paint just isn't looking good. Aaaaaaargh! I'll probably have to sand them down and start all over.

Add to this that Coc gives me enough time each day to finish one coat on one chair. So, approximately five coats off paint on six chairs, plus sanding. I figure I'll finish in time for Thanksgiving. Until then, we will continue eating while sitting on the piano bench, rubbermaid boxes and buckets.

I've decided that I need to have my own home decorating and maintenance show. Only instead of making you feel terrible about what your house looks like, like Martha, you can watch my show and feel muuuuuch better about yourself.

Oh, and I'm in pain. My left side stabs and hurts whenever I move. So i think I will be seeing a doctor today. Lovely.

So, I'm done complaining now.

It will all work out beautifully, as it always does. I just needed to vent. So thank you dearly, my bloggy friends. I hope you still love me.

Oh, I'm still working on my novel and sooooo excited about it. I've been researching Kentucky coal mines in 1958, Kaiser steel, Napa California, botulism. It's coming together in my mind. It will be grand.

I found one very cool little thing in my research. My grandparents used to live at 1012 Darms Lane in Napa, CA. Look at what is there now.

The little cottages that were there in the 1950s are now a lovely little B&B. Pretty cool, eh? I told JDub that we will be staying there soon.

Itchy

They have attacked. I have the first two mosquito bites of the summer. On my feet!!

Bring Out the Raincoats and Let the Bleach Flow Like Water

Ahhhhhhh.....

It has been a long week. I woke up Tuesday and had to keep reminding myself that it wasn't Thursday. It's been long.

On Monday we went to Hannah Paige's Memorial Service. It was a beautiful service. Her parents are very loved. Kaitybean and I had the honor of singing along with another sister-in-law. Then, we had a luncheon.

Oh, but let me back up.

Before this, the night before actually, Mashuga started in with vomiting and diarrhea. We were up most of the night with him. Then, when we woke up he acted like he felt just fine. So, we got everyone dressed and went to the service. My Mom and I in one car with the kids, JDub in another car so he could go to work afterward. We live about five minutes at most from the cemetary. The service was about to start and JDub wasn't there. So I called and found out that he was on his way to the cemetary in the community north of us, whic is about 30 minutes away from our house. Oh boy.

The rest of that day was lovely, with a luncheon afterward. Then, my sister, her fiance and my mom came to my house to visit and play with us. My mom re-taught me how to play rummy and we played a few rounds.

Then, the next day came. I woke up to the sound of Scud heaving into the toilet. Yuck. Sure enough, he'd caught the stomach bug that Mashuga had. Well, we've had swimming lessons at 10:30 every morning for the last two weeks. They'd already missed a lesson when we went to Hannah's service. So, I thought I'd better take at least Kaitybean and Mashuga to their lessons. I talked to Scud about it and he agreed that he'd be able to come and sit in the balcony during their lessons. No sooner than we'd gotten situated in the balcony than he began throwing up. Oh, dear. I'll spare you all the details, but I did manage to get him to the car and get the other kids from lessons and go home.

Well, that was small potatoes. Yesterday Coco started throwing up. I tell you, there's not much worse than a vomiting baby. He was so miserable and has continued to be. I thought he was all done throwing up. He started at 8am yesterday and continued pretty steadily until 4:30am this morning. Then, he woke up at 7am, ate A LOT and slept for a few hours. He's been good. Then, about 30 minutes ago he threw up all over me again. He and I have showered a lot in the last couple of days.

Oh, and I forgot to tell you. Scud tripped and fell right on his nose. I think it may be broken. We're waiting for the swelling to go down so that we can see if it's really broken and what they can do for it.

So, I'm about to call the doctor to see what I can do for Coco and whether or not I need to bring him in. I'm worried about him getting dehydrated and vomiting for over 24 hours seems a bit dangerous in a 5 month old. Maybe it'll be a good time to take Scud in and we can just do a two-fer.

Through all this, I'm just laughing inside. Laughing and laughing. What else can you do? I just keep pausing and thinking how humorous it is that THIS is my life.

Oh, and I'm trying to ignore the flat of strawberries on my counter that are growing into little gray fuzzballs. I bought them on Saturday with the intent to make jam. I thought that the only things I'd have to do this week were Hannah's service and then swimming lessons.

Someone has a sense of humor and I'm just doing my best to try to get the joke.

I can't wait for all of this to slow down so that I can douse my entire home in bleach.

Bleh...

So, I've not had much original thought on here lately. That's mostly because the things that have been rolling through my mind lately have not passed my onboard critic as "fit for public consumption". It's been an interesting last couple of weeks. Good and bad mixed together.

First, can I just say how much I HATE, LOATHE, DETEST mental illness. Honestly. I'm tired of it. Tired of how it has affected me, has affected my family members.

Now that that's out of the way, I can (try to) be my usual, chatty self.

Among other things, soccer season is over. What a fun team we had this year. And Mashuga actually almost played by the end of the season. He spent more and more time on the field and less and less time tackling people while he was on the field. I have hope and must remember that my older two had their butterly-chasing-dandelion-picking seasons as well. Of course, with Mashuga, I'd be overjoyed if picking dandelions were the worst of what he did. He just does things BIGGER and LOUDER than everyone and found much fun in kicking the ball away from the other team as they were setting up for a corner kick, or tackling anyone who came near him, or laying down in the goal, or losing his britches during the game (well, that was involuntary, but very, VERY funny).

Kaitybean had her first track meet, ran her first race AND WON! Hooray! It was terribly cold, though, and we left before she completed all of her events.

Scud played in his first tee-ball game. It was fun to watch him. He has a good arm! Mashuga, Coco and I shivered through it while Kaitybean hung out in the car.

I took a trip to the ER last week for strange, severe chest and shoulder pain. They didn't find anything wrong and the Dr. suspected that it might be musculo-skeletal. So, I need to pay a visit to my brother the chiropractor. I'm thinking it might have something to do with carrying a little guy around in a sling for hours at a time.

The week before that we took a vacation to Salt Lake City and visited the zoo, Clark Planetarium, Discovery Gateway and other fun places. I turned 29 while we were up there.

So, it's been busy. I won't regale you with every detail. Let's just say I am overwhelmed. And sad. And feeling a bit time-poor. But I'm certain it will all look better soon. And until then, I'll just laugh at the post below. I suggest you do the same.

I'm feeling rather snarky today

But, alas, the babe in my arms keeps me from typing all of the gloriously sarcastic things I have to say today.

Maybe later.

For now, I just want to say that I think the new blogger sucks rocks.

There, I've said it.

I switched, believing their promise that it would be easier. Believing, as JDub has conditioned me to believe, that Google can do no wrong.

Not so.

I haven't quite liked my blog since I switched.

My sidebar is too narrow. The colors aren't right. The text is different.

And I can't quite figure out how to change things to get them to look just the way I want.

Either I put up with their parameters or I have to become an html genius.

Blech!

Okay. Done complaining now.

I really did say I'd ask some of you for help, didn't I?

Maybe I'll do that and spare you all the next round of complaints

Randomness

Just a few things going on right now.

I feel like a Garth Brooks song. Much too young to feel this darn old. I have FOUR children. Did you read that? Read it again. FOUR CHILDREN. I'm not even thirty yet! That, and I have LOTS of gray hair. I'll post a picture soon. Seriously. A LOT OF GRAY HAIRS. No, this isn't just the before thirty freak out about the first gray hair. I got my first gray hair when I was seventeen. Since then they have been reproducing like bunnies. There are families upon families of gray hairs. Sometimes I like it. Each gray hair is like a badge of honor. I worked hard for it. They're like tiny little signs of a life well lived. But, I'd rather wear them proudly at 50 than pre-30. I think I'll be calling my SIL soon about a color and cut.

Kaitybean has been studying ancient Rome in her class. Today they had a Roman Festival and Feast. She was very excited and was voted to be the Empress for the party. We also survived her first major school report. She wrote about Pompeii and interjected letters from a little girl who moved to Pompeii just months before Mt. Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD. She did a fantastic job. Her teacher stopped me during carpool to let me know how great she thought it was. What a cool daughter I have. What a neat school. What a neat teacher.

Mashuga has spent the whole day in his room. This child is STUBBORN. He has two shirts, a pair of pants and seven toys on his floor. Not too much for a four year old to take care of on his own. He's been told that he can't come out of his room until it is clean. So, he has napped, played, sung and wandered about his room ALL DAY LONG. Because he doesn't feel like picking up a grand total of 10 things.

Scud is OBSESSED with Calvin and Hobbes lately. SERIOUSLY OBSESSED. He has a toy monkey that he calls Hobbes and frequently re-enacts Calvin and Hobbes comics. One good thing about this -- his reading level is improving dramatically as he gets at least one C&H book from the library each week and reads it from cover to cover. One bad thing -- when he answers the phone by saying "Hi, Scud speaking. I'd like to order a triple anchovy pizza." Then, when the person on the other end asks for someone at our house he says, "I'm sorry, you must have the wrong number." And he hangs up on them.

JDub. Well, JDub made a bold move today. I've complained often of his frustration with work. He is truly overworked, underpaid and (worst of all for him) kept from doing his job properly because of the micro-mis-management at his place of employment. So, today he took in a resume detailing his experience and contributions to the company and essentially re-applied for a job there. He outlined what he wants to do, what needs to change in order for him to make his branch of the business profitable and how he will be accountable for his results. Basically, he told his two bosses that either they let him play by his rules or he's taking his ball and playing somewhere else. Hopefully they'll listen. His ball is really pretty important to their game there and he plays a huge role, bringing in more than 50% of their sales volume. I would think any employer would be glad to get the resume and letter he turned in today. In essence it said, "Get out of my way and let me make lots of money for you or I'll walk." He didn't ask for higher pay. Didn't make any ludicrous demands. He just wants to do his job, do it well and allow both the company and his family to profit from the results. Sounds reasonable to me. Still, depending on the response, he may soon be looking for a new job. Which might mean a move. Which I might not be happy with. Happy thoughts our way, please.

So, there you go. That's all I have to say for now.

There's a reason my home looks like a warzone right now.

A hostile enemy has been ravaging our household since Thursday. It goes by the name of Influenza A. You know, I always poo poo the necessity of getting flu shots each year. Then, every time we get the flu, I'm suddenly a believer. So, next autumn will someone please hit me over the head with a brick if you don't see my whole family standing in line at the nearest arm-sticking establishment waiting for our flu shots? I tell you, this stuff is rotten.

Kaitybean started with it first on Thursday. She got into the car after school looking like she'd just been hit by a train. Byt the morning she was miserable -- fever, headache, chills, body aches, cough -- the whole works. The rest of us quickly followed suit and our home was awash with groans and cries. There were pillows and blankets and used tissues everywhere. The kids downed two bottles of children's ibuprofen. I went through about half a bottle of the adult variety by myself over the weekend. Even Jack Jack got into the act, spiking a fever of 100.7 and narrowly avoiding a trip to the emergency room.

You know what makes this story even more fun? Our friend Influenza came through our door just days after his friend Streptococcal Pharyngitis decided to leave.

Blech!!!!!!

So to say my house is a mess would be putting it mildly. I feel this desperate need to wash all of the sheets and scrub the house from floor to ceiling with bleach. Oh yeah, and I'm going to buy us all new toothbrushes tonight. NO MORE OF THIS!

On a somewhat more upbeat note, Mashuga and Kaitybean have also made our house rather warlike. They are like fire and water lately -- two earth-shaping elemental forces that simply cannot coexist. And I'm about ready to tear them both from limb to limb. Really, they can't seem to be within 20 feet of each other without arguing about something. One of their recent arguments:

Mashuga: We're all playing the puppy game. I'm scamp puppy. And Mommy is "mommy dog" and Scud is "brother dog" and you're "sister puppy" and...

Kaitybean: I am not sister puppy!

Mashuga: Yes you are. We're all playing the puppy game.

Kaitybean: No I'm not! I'm not playing the puppy game! I'm not sister puppy! You're so dumb.

But here's the best argument they've EVER had. It started one day when they were arguing in the car on the way to school. (This is after the hour and a half they'd spent bickering since they woke up that morning.) I asked begged, threatened and demanded that one of them PLEASE be the peacemaker and stop responding to the other. They were silent for a moment, then this ensued:

Mashuga: Kaitybean, I'm being a peacemaker.

Kaitybean: No you're not, I'm the peacemaker.

Mashuga: Nuh-uh! I'm the peacemaker.

Kaitybean: NO, I'm the peacemaker.

Mashuga: I'm a better peacemaker than you!!!!

Kaitybean: You ARE NOT. I am the one being a peacemaker here! You don't even know what it means to be a peacemaker!

Mashuga: Yes, I do!

Kaitybean: Do not.

Mashuga: UH-HUH!!!! Mom, tell Kaitybean that I know how to be a peacemaker!

I'm sure you can imagine the convulsions of laughter I was experiencing during this interchange. It made it awfully hard to drive. For a very short while I didn't even mind that they were fighting.